


Under My Protection

by WaterlilyRose



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, As far as Im concerned anyway, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Marriage Proposal, Marriage of Convenience, Sansa Stark is Queen in the North, Weddings, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-16 10:21:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18689554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterlilyRose/pseuds/WaterlilyRose
Summary: Jaime honoured his vow to fight for the living. Now the fight is over and he is a Lannister surrounded by Starks.Brienne is given a way to keep him safe. It might just be everything they've ever wanted.





	1. Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> Speculation as to Jaime's fate now the Battle of Winterfell is over. 
> 
> I will go down with this ship.

They were alive.

 

Jaime hadn’t prepared for that.

 

When he had ridden North, away from King’s Landing, away from Cersei… the only plan he had in his head was “Kill Wight Walkers”.

 

Fight for the living…

 

_Fuck loyalty._

 

He expected to die in battle. And now here he was.

 

Alive.

 

That first night no-one had much cared about him. They were all struck by a feeling of ‘can you believe it?’.

 

Podrick seemed not too badly injured. Tormund kept saying something about ‘giant’s milk’ and Brienne…

 

Was alive too.

 

If Jaime did worship the Old Gods (or any God really) he would fall beneath the Great Tree and kiss the roots.

 

But now… he had served his purpose.

 

So he wasn’t surprised when he opened his chamber door a day later to find the Unsullied waiting for him.

 

Greyworm asked him in a voice that brokered no argument to follow him.

 

Jaime was a better fighter now after months of practise with Bronn but he was too tired to bluster.

 

Instead he took a warm cloak and followed.

 

The Dragon Queen gifted him with a visit not an hour later. Jaime could see why Jon Snow and indeed his little brother was in love with her. She was an exquisite beauty; white blonde hair, a graceful figure and violet eyes. Yet her face was twisted into a look of stern determination.

 

It didn’t matter how just he was in killing the Mad King – he had been her father.

 

His attempt to impale her on the battlefield probably hadn’t helped either.

 

“King Slayer.” Her voice was hard; deadly. “You fought bravely against the White Walkers. And you have been spared as a result. But that battle is over. And now I must retake my throne.” She pinned him with her gaze. “Will you bend the knee?”

 

“What is it with you and bending knees? Have you got a dominant fetish or something?” Snark came easy to Jaime. It gave him time to think.

 

Cersei was going mad. Of that, there was little doubt. And he couldn’t stand beside her if that was how she intended to rule. Was he cursed to serve mad rulers forever?

 

Cersei was his twin. His sister. The woman he had loved so madly for so long.

 

He may not believe in her or be blind to her poison anymore but he didn’t want to kill her.

 

Not yet anyway.

 

But this girl… she was Aerys’ daughter and her nature was beginning to mimic her dearly departed Daddy.

 

Oh, she had the best of intentions and certainly didn’t enjoy pain. But there was a ruthlessness to her that mirrored Cersei a bit too much.

 

He didn’t want to serve a mad ruler. He didn’t think that was asking too much.

 

“This is not the time for insolence, King Slayer.” She didn’t deal with any opposition well – she’ll need to if she wants to survive Westeros.

 

“Then when is?” Jaime looked her right in the eye. “I vowed to serve the living. I have kept that vow. Now if you leave me to rot in my own shit in this dungeon – fair enough. If you want to feed me to your pets… well, hopefully they aren’t fond of chewing. But I am done serving other people. One mad King was enough.”

 

Daenerys glared at him. The axe would be a mercy.

 

“You will remain here until I have decided what to do with you. Or until you are ready to submit.”

 

And she spun on her heel as she left him to rot.

 

Hopefully Drogon and Rhaegal had eaten already today.

 

* * *

 

Brienne was slow to realise that something was wrong yet noticed before anyone else. Jaime was always the only person she saw in any room – whether she wanted to or not.

 

As she broke her fast in the Great Hall, she noticed he was not in presence. Odd – it was not like Jaime to skip breaking his fast.

 

Well, he was probably with Tyrion. And they had just defeated an army of undead.

 

Lady Sansa called her to a meeting in her private chambers. When Brienne entered, she saw Lord Snow and the Dragon Queen.

 

The Targaryen girl looked grimly determined. Jon looked uncomfortable. Sansa looked like she was carved out of stone. Life had taught her to keep her own counsel but Brienne knew her mistress well enough to know this was a grave subject they would address.

 

“Lady Brienne,” The Targaryen girl spoke first. “I am so pleased to see you are still with us.”

 

“Thank you, Your Grace.” In truth, Brienne could not believe it herself sometimes. Little Lyanna Mormont was gone – a true Northerner to the very end. So was Ser Jorah and it touched Brienne to see the slight mist that came over Daenerys’ eyes. Everyone had lost someone and Ser Jorah had died in the Dragon Queen’s arms – somehow Brienne mused it was probably a death he wanted.

 

Small comfort though that was.

 

“We have come out the other side. And now an even greater battle is ahead.”

 

Brienne wasn’t so sure a battle against any enemy that couldn’t die could be beaten but said nothing.

 

“Unfortunately,” Daenerys continued, “Ser Jaime seems unwilling to bend the knee.”

 

The truth hit Brienne like pinpricks of icy knives – Jaime had done all he had promised. Now he was dispensable.

 

_Oh Gods help me._

 

“You plan to execute him?” She felt confused; winded. They couldn’t…

 

“If he remains loyal to Cersei, I don’t see how we have a choice.” Jon said in a voice laden with regret.

 

“He helped us. He kept his vow!” Brienne argued.

 

“And for that we are grateful. Truly. Which is why we are giving you time.” Jon explained.

 

“Time?”

 

Jon stepped forward. “You can convince him where we can’t.”

 

They wanted her to… to what? Convince him? Of what? To join the Targaryen cause?

 

But was it even _her_ cause? She followed Lady Stark and Sansa had given no indication that she was going to help the Dragon Queen.

 

Brienne didn’t know which way to turn. All she knew was that Jaime couldn’t die. Not now. Not like this.

 

Then…

 

“May I speak a word in private with my Knight, please?” Lady Stark asked, courteously but with steel in her voice.

 

Jon looked to his sister and nodded. He turned and left without waiting for his love.

 

There was a distance between them that had not been there before.

 

She was now alone with Lady Stark.

 

“Lady Brienne...” It was almost a whisper of regret. It took all Brienne’s concentration to not drop to her knees.

 

“I… I know I swore myself to you. My life is now yours. But… I...”

 

Sansa stepped forward and touched Brienne’s arm. She looked so much like her mother. Catelyn would have been so proud.

 

“I said I trusted you with my life and that is true. More true than ever.” Sansa took in a deep breath. “He is a Lannister but one you trust. I may not understand, I may never understand, but I will stop this.”

 

“If he doesn’t bend the knee, I don’t see how.”

 

“Bending the knee against Cersei might not be easy but there will be a loophole. We just have to find it.”

 

Brienne felt herself searching madly. “We just need to bring him under our protection. After that, well, we can work that – Milady?”

 

“’Under our protection’...” Sansa whispered almost to herself. Then she smiled. “Oh, I really should have stayed Tyrion’s wife. I’m certainly more cunning now.”

 

* * *

 

The guards weren’t quite so insolent as Jaime expected. They were by no means acting like nursemaids to him but they weren’t spitting in his food either.

 

His fighting must have earned him grudging respect if not evident trust.

 

It was pointedly better than being chained to a stake in the ground. Which was his last experience from being a prisoner of the Starks.

 

His dungeon door opened and in stepped -

 

Ah. He’d rather hoped to avoid her seeing him like this.

 

Brienne of Tarth was sporting many bruises and cuts from their battle but still stood tall. The woman had the constitution of an ox.

 

From her pale and terrified face, she clearly wasn’t here for a stroll.

 

“Like my new chambers?” Jaime asked for lack of anything else to say.

 

Brienne looked at him as though she had never seen him before.

 

“How can you joke at a moment like this?”

 

“I believe weeping would be more than a little pointless.” He gave her a wary smile. They had been through so much and there was still so much to say. But would he say it now?

 

It seemed cruel to unburden himself and then leave her to face the rest of her life with the knowledge.

 

“So… you heard then?”

 

“Lady Sansa told me.” Brienne told him.

 

“Nice of her.” Jaime looked up at her. “It’s no-one’s fault but mine. I’ve done terrible things, Brienne.”

 

“Lady Sansa has thought of a way to keep you safe.”

 

“I’m not bending the knee.”

 

“It doesn’t involve that.”

 

“Then what-”

 

“Marry me.”

 

Jaime had never been stunned into speechlessness. He’d never been proposed to either.

 

Brienne’s face, once so pale, was now crimson with embarrassment. But she held his gaze.

 

“What?” was all Jaime could manage.

 

“Lady Sansa has a plan.” Her eyes were now fixed on the wall behind Jaime’s left ear. “The marriage vows and the ceremony actually tells you to cloak the bride and bring her under your protection. If you are my husband Tarth is under your protection. And Tarth is an ally they need. Sansa will always stand beside me. If we are kin… you would receive her backing too.”

 

Jaime said nothing and waited until Brienne had no choice but to look at him.

 

“You want to marry me? To be my wife?”

 

“I...I want to save you.”

 

“That’s not what I asked.”

 

Brienne swallowed and then took a deep breath. “We have been through a lot together. I trust you and have high regard for you. And I will do whatever it takes to keep you alive.”

 

“’High regard’? Brienne, this isn’t a spar in the courtyard; this is marriage.” Jaime stepped forward. “Do you know what danger you will be in? You’ll be Lady Lannister. Frankly that name is a death sentence right now.”

 

“And you’re facing a death sentence if I do nothing.”

 

Jaime looked at her. If he said no, he’d die. If he said yes, they both could die. ‘Could’ was preferable to ‘definitely’.

 

“I don’t want a political marriage. I want a true marriage.”

 

Brienne looked pale once more and then looked down.

 

“I know that I am not your choice of bride but I would-”

 

“I want _us_ to have a true marriage!” Jaime burst out. Brienne looked up and wore the same expression he must have worn when she proposed. “If you want to shackle yourself to me, you’re mad but that’s not exactly news. But I want it all. Let’s stop dancing around what we both want – marry me if you want but marry me because you love me as I love you.”

 

Brienne looked like she was in danger of falling over. Granted, this was not how he imagined he would tell her he loved her. But he liked improvising. It made life interesting.

 

“If you want me as a true husband, meet me in the Godswood at midnight. If you don’t come, well, at least I’ll know.”

 

Jaime walked past her and thumped his golden hand against the door. The guard arrived and opened the door with a look of suspicion. “We’re done here.”

 

Brienne said not one more word as she left the dungeon.


	2. Marriage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this listening to 'Ashes' by Celine Dion - perfect fit for Jaime.

Tyrion had seen a lot in his life; he’d seen the beauty of the Wall (before it fell down); he’d seen a fleet of wildfire destroy a navy; he’d actually unchained a dragon and he’d watched his nephew die (which would have been one of his happiest memories if the subsequent arrest and trial for murder hadn’t followed it).

 

But now he was seeing something he never dreamed he would ever see: his older swaggering brother, the Lion of Lannister, pacing back and forth over a warrior who had just asked his hand in marriage.

 

Tyrion had spent the better part of the morning trying to plead for his brother’s life with Daenerys but she seemed implacable. If Jaime did not bend the knee (she was always touchy about that) he would have to die.

 

So to find his elder brother not overly concerned about his impending execution and instead fretting about Brienne of Tarth was something of a shock. Jaime Lannister did not _fret_.

 

Brienne’s, and by extension Sansa’s, plan was really rather genius. Daenerys still needed the North and Sansa held a lot of sway, And by extension Brienne for saving Ned Stark’s daughter. If Brienne joined herself to Jaime, Sansa would be honour-bound to protect Jaime too. And the North would no doubt tolerate it if only for Sansa’s sake. Besides, he had helped them fight off the army of the undead. And lived – which was more than could be said for most. The Dothraki included.

 

And on a purely personal level a very good idea.

 

Tyrion liked Ser Brienne. She was honourable, brave, not Cersei, humble, generous, not Cersei, faithful to the last and not Cersei.

 

Tyrion would have stitched the wedding cloak himself if he had the first idea how to sew.

 

And Jaime loved her. Truly loved her.

 

He didn’t have to be the most educated man to see how his brother looked at the Maid of Tarth. Jaime had actually jumped from his chair when Brienne entered the Great Hall. His brother did not do that… or at least he didn’t.

 

“If I am not mistaken Brother,” Tyrion said slowly, “you do not strike me as the vision of the happy bridegroom.”

 

“What if she refuses me?” Jaime asked quietly as he paced his cell.

 

“And why in Seven Hells would she do that? _She_ proposed to _you_.”

 

“A proposal to keep me alive.”

 

“If you really believe that then you really did take too many knocks in the training yard.” Jaime sat upon the straw on the floor and the brothers looked at one another. It reminded Tyrion of another time – a time when they both sat in a cell very similar to this one and the other brother had been the prisoner. “Brother, my experience with women has been a little lacking but I’ve seen the way she looks at you. Those big blue eyes of hers say more than words ever could.”

 

“She’s innocent. More innocent than any woman who wields a sword with such skill ought to be. What if the prospect… of a true marriage is too much for her?”

 

“If she’s as good with a sword as you claim then she will no doubt put it to use against your privy parts if you displease her.” Tyrion pointed out. Then he stopped smirking. It was time to be serious. “Jaime, this could not only keep you alive but help us finally build a Lannister dynasty that we can be proud of. The great lion has to die one day; this is our chance to produce a stronger cub.”

 

Jaime looked at his brother and nodded. “Then I will need a favour, little brother?”

 

“What is it?”

 

“Could you possibly procure your ex-wife to let me attend the Godswood at midnight? As famous as my recklessness has become, I doubt even I can attend a wedding without the key to my cell.”

 

* * *

 

Brienne stayed in her room for the entirety of the day. Everyone was so exhausted from the battle that no-one missed her – most of the survivors were either sleeping, getting drunk or have the most ecstatic sex of their lives.

 

Brienne couldn’t deny she would like to sleep. Getting drunk would solve nothing but Tyrion apparently swore by it. She flushed at the last option.

 

It was apparently what Jaime wanted. He wanted a true wife.

 

_He loved her._

 

This didn’t make any sense to Brienne. The practical cynical side of her, drilled in by years of taunts, bullies and pity, thought instantly that this was some great joke. Did Jaime think that she would go to take the vows quicker if she was under the impression he felt affection for her?

 

That didn’t make sense even to Brienne’s suspicious mind. He hadn’t been lying. She knew Ser Jaime and had become adapt at reading him. He was more honest than he would like to be.

 

But why? Why did he love her? He was Jaime Lannister, the golden son of Tywin, golden knight and fabled swordsman. He was a storybook knight.

 

And she was… Brienne. Brienne the Beauty. Oh yes. What a great jest(!)

 

Brienne walked over to the small mirror that Sansa had gifted her. Brienne hadn’t wanted to accept it – it was a different thing for Sansa to look at her reflection. Sansa was a beautiful woman. Brienne…

 

With a sigh, she raised it to look at herself.

 

Short blonde hair. Freckles. Cuts and bruises from the Battle. At very best, she was plain. At worst…

 

Her eyes shone with tears.

 

Yet Brienne took some comfort. For she had always liked her eyes. Big and blue.

 

So why did Jaime… look at her… like _that_.

 

Like she looked at him.

 

Brienne had learnt since Renly that showing affection or lust was the quickest way to ridicule. But she was only a woman beneath the armour. And Ser Jaime… Brienne hadn’t known him at his very prime. When he wore the white cloak with a swagger and could toss his golden head.

 

She had known Jaime when he was dirty, dressed in rags and cocky with his own importance. She had known him when his head was severed and he was faced with losing the one thing that made him above others. She had known him as he matured, mellowed and became the man he was now.

 

Older. Wiser. Heart-rendingly beautiful.

 

Jaime Lannister was half-man, half-God and sometimes you have to look away from the image in order to catch your breath.

 

As good as she’d gotten at turning herself to ice, she could not lie through her eyes. And judging from the knowing looks of Pod, Tyrion and even Tormund (though that man would never give in on his own mission of seduction) people had noticed.

 

Brienne had been prepared to do this thing in order to save him. Out of honour.

 

Could she put her heart on the line and be his wife in deed as well as name?

 

* * *

 

Lady Sansa came with the Hound and Tyrion to let Jaime out of his dungeon. It was nearly midnight and there was a chill in the air. The guards were absent but the presence of the Hound made a clear that, should Jaime wish to, he would be restrained from leaving.

 

Lady Sansa did not appear outwardly any warmer than the Hound who looked on Jaime with all the joy of a foot fungus. Jaime didn’t blame her – she may have spared his life and come up with this idea to save him but he doubted the Starks and the Lannisters would ever repair the damage that had been done.

 

She wasn’t pressing a knife into his ribs; all other courtesies were overrated.

 

The walk up to the Godswood was mostly silent. Apart from Tyrion’s inane comments about how they might have snow tonight.

 

Jaime turned to Clegane. The years had neither been kind or harsh; he was just the same as he remembered – silent and contemptuous of the human race.

 

“Surprised you are so quiet, Clegane.” Jaime commented. “Thought you’d have more to say about the woman I love.”

 

The Hound looked down at him. He was even taller than Brienne.

 

“Brienne of Tarth handed my arse to me and left me to die on a fucking mountain.” He looked Jaime up and down. “Frankly, she probably deserves better.”

 

The Septor was present under the great tree. Jaime had never truly appreciated the beauty of the wood. He’d always dismissed Winterfell rather sniffilly. Now… he might die here tomorrow. It was oddly comforting.

 

The sky began to gently drop snow onto their heads.

 

The North was truly a beautiful place. He’d never admit it. It was a secret for him and the Old Gods.

 

There was movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned.

 

Brienne approached like a frightened doe. She was dressed in her armour and her furred cloak. She looked more scared than she had ever appeared in battle.

 

Podrick was close behind her. He looked totally different from his mistress; he looked buoyant and like he was delighted by this turn of events.

 

Shyly, Brienne walked to Jaime’s side.

 

“You came.” He said almost as struck dumb by the realisation as he had been that morning by her proposal.

 

Brienne nodded and then pulled his arm to indict they needed to talk first. Out of earshot. Jaime followed.

 

“I must know,” Brienne spoke to the point as always, “for my own mind. You stated your desire for me to only do this if I… if I love you. Well, the same applies to me. I know you want a true marriage… but do you love _me_?”

 

Jaime stepped forward and saw that she was trembling. He doubted it was from cold.

 

“I love you. I came to the North to fight for the living; to fight for you. For some reason we have been spared. I don’t know what Gods are watching us but they seem to be telling me something. That maybe our story isn’t over yet. And if there was ever a woman who could make me a true knight and a good man, I think it would only be you.”

 

Brienne’s eyes swam with emotion. She looked much the same as the night he had knighted her. Oh, Maiden, Mother and Crone, he loved her so.

 

“Now tell me; do you love me?” He asked quietly. She had never said the words. And he was hungry to hear them.

 

“I love you.” She said without hesitation despite her wet eyes. “I think I’ve loved you nearly as long as I’ve known you.”

 

“Well then,” Jaime said softly, “let’s get married.”

 

Jaime never would have imagined himself ever getting married and certainly not beneath an old tree in a Godswood surrounded by enemies and with no cloaks in sight. Yet as their hands were tied with ribbon, the vows he took as a knight seemed meaningless: this was an oath that he would never break.

 

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger; I am hers and she is mine. To this day until the end of my days.”

 

The first kiss that Brienne and Jaime exchanged was a soft gentle thing. It sealed their oath irrevocably.


	3. Wedding Night

There was no time to prepare a wedding feast for the new alliance of Lannister and Tarth; it would also draw undue attention to their plan and Jaime had always hated banquets. It reminded him too much of old days – of standing to one side as Robert gorged himself on wine and wenches while Cersei sat beside him as sour as a badly made lemon-cake. Of smiles to his face and sneers at his back.

 

Of watching his son choke to death and unable to do anything. And unable to feel the smallest amount of grief for the repugnant boy.

 

And no doubt the Stark family would never enjoy a wedding party again – not when their matriarch and heir had been slaughtered after a bedding ceremony.

 

A drink of wine by the fire the Great Hall was much more comfortable.

 

Lady Sansa instead took Brienne, his _wife_ , to one side and talked to her quietly before Brienne departed. When Jaime looked at her leave feeling startled, Podrick stepped forward: “A chamber has been prepared, Milord. Lady Sansa needed to make sure Brienne was completely willing first. And Lady Sansa felt that maybe a bride needs time to prepare.”

 

Jaime nodded his understanding. Of course, Lady Sansa would be the most concerned that Brienne was completely willing and ready for what lay ahead. Especially after what she herself had endured.

 

Jaime took the goblet offered by Tyrion and drank.

 

“Congratulations Brother. An honest man at last.” Tyrion toasts him before drinking from his own cup.

 

“Thank you.” Jaime said softly.

 

“Ser Jaime.” Jaime turned around and faced Lady Sansa. “A word please?”

 

Jaime nodded and followed her away from the trio of Tyrion, Podrick and The Hound who had forsaken a goblet to just picking up the wine jug and drinking straight from that.

 

“Ser Jaime… you have my congratulations.” Lady Sansa began though without smiling.

 

“Thank you for your help, Milady.”

 

“I did it for her. Not you.” The old antagonism between Stark and Lannister was still present in her eyes yet Jaime did not feel at all nettled. She was right to not trust him; sometimes he hardly trusted himself. “She loves you and it would have destroyed her if you were taken away from her. All I’m saying is… Brienne is special.”

 

“I know.” Jaime said softly.

 

“She is the most honourable knight there is; the sort I used to read in storybooks as a girl. You have not been honourable in the past but I will forgive those sins… in time. As long as you do not forsake her or make me regret making this marriage possible.”

 

“I will never hurt her. I promise.”

 

Sansa stared at him as though trying to fathom if he was telling the truth. How many people had promised her happy endings only to betray her in the most cruel way? He really would have loved to have seen Littlefinger’s trial and death – the look on his face must have been a joy to behold.

 

Finally she gave a slow nod. “Good. Because if you do, I’ll get Tormund to beat you to death with your own golden hand.”

 

At that Jaime couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t think you need to even ask him. He’s probably going to try to do that anyway as soon as he finds out.”

 

Lady Sansa gave a little chuckle and looked down as though to hide her amusement. Jaime looked at her and then spoke: “I’m sorry for how I treated you in King’s Landing.”

 

Sansa looked up and furrowed her eyebrows. “You didn’t do anything-”

 

“Exactly. I did nothing. And I should have done. I should have got you out of there as soon as I got back. But I didn’t. I waited too long.”

 

Sansa blinked a few times and then said: “You really have changed.”

 

“Still a way to go yet, Milady.”

 

With that, he bowed to her and walked out of the hall. He needed to see his wife.

 

* * *

 

Sansa watched him go, feeling hopeful and optimistic for the first time. He really did seem to have changed. And she found it oddly humbling to see the Great Jaime Lannister bought to her level. Maybe even lower.

 

“He will be good for her.” Tyrion’s voice came from behind her. Sansa turned to look at him. “Trust me.”

 

Not all Lannisters are so bad, Sansa mused. My ex husband was certainly the best of them.

 

“Come on.” Tyrion gestured to his wine cup. “Daenerys is probably going to feed us to her dragons tomorrow. If this is my last few hours, I don’t intend to be sober.”

 

* * *

 

Brienne stood beside the fire in her newly furnished chamber. It wasn’t much bigger than her own but it had a four poster bed with curtains and the stone floor felt somewhat warmed.

 

Her flesh pimpled all the same.

 

She never thought she’d have this day – she never thought she’d come close to a wedding night. And now… she was Lady Lannister. Best not think too much about that part – but then she kept looking to the bed.

 

She was going to sleep with Jaime Lannister. Well, he was her husband now.

 

Jaime Lannister was her husband. She walked to the ewer in the corner and helped herself to a generous cup. The wine burned her throat but it was distracting and made her believe her wooziness was due to drunkenness.

 

What did she do? When she’d been a girl and a Septa had been employed to tell her the facts of marriage, the only advice she’d been given was ‘blow out the candles’ and ‘endure’. She’d hated that Septa.

 

Did she undress? Did she get into bed? Did she have another cup of wine?

 

She had another cup of wine.

 

The light tap on the door made her jump more than it should have and she needed to breathe deeply as she opened it. Jaime was stood outside. Gods, he was beautiful. She really hoped she could keep the candles lit in her room.

 

“Mind if I come in? This corridor is cold.”

 

Brienne wordlessly stepped aside. Jaime walked to the fire and unlaced his cloak. When he looked at her, there was a tenderness there. He wore it often when he looked at her.

 

“You needn’t be so afraid. We don’t have to do anything if you’re not ready.”

 

“It’s… it’s not that. It’s just...” Brienne looked at him and tried to swollow the desire to be sarcastic. It was much easier for them to verbally spar; almost comforting. “What do I do?”

 

Jaime’s face didn’t betray a hint of exasperation or annoyance at her ignorance; only affection. “Whatever you want. There are no rules. Do what feels good, stop what doesn’t.”

 

Brienne nodded and then stilled as Jaime approached her so his face was only an inch from hers.

 

What felt good was kissing him again.

 

It was an exportation – slow and shy but then like all things between them it became more desperate, more raw. His taste was amazing. Oh, she’d wanted to kiss that handsome face for so long.

 

It felt almost natural when Brienne felt her tunic being tugged off. It wasn’t frightening – she wanted him to take her clothes off. His own tunic was thrown aside not long after. It might have landed on the fire.

 

Good. Let it burn.

 

His torso was golden from the firelight and beautifully shaped. She knew her own form was muscled but that did not seem to displease Jaime. Not at all.

 

Her breeches were pushed down and she was naked before him. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen her so, of course. The first time had been in a bathtub many years ago. Where she had stood in anger and he had bared his soul to the truth of his name. About what it was really like to be a Kingslayer and why he’d done what he did. It had been the first time when the bravado and swagger was truly stripped away. And from then on, something had changed.

 

From then on, she’d stopped being so hostile. And had begun to love him.

 

Oh, she loved him so.

 

Jaime had encouraged her to lie down on the wedding bed and the old insecurities began to take shape. What if he found her lacking? Her breasts were too small, she was too tall, her hair was long en-

 

The kiss Jaime bestowed on her, hungry and yearning helped her head go quiet. She felt him fumble with his own trousers and suddenly he was naked too. Brienne couldn’t contain the groan of relief when he lay over her. His skin felt perfect and the antidote for all the world’s ills.

 

Brienne couldn’t contain the purr of delight at the feel of Jaime’s hand sliding down her side and finding its way between her legs. Brienne knew that in order for intercourse to be easier the bride should be aroused enough to allow her husband to make her his wife. Brienne had never been so turned on in her life that she was sure the inside of her thighs were glistening.

 

If there was pain, it wouldn’t be too much.

 

His body lay between her legs and she felt his manhood rub against her mound. All her life she had viewed sex as something to be fought off. Now, in the arms of this man, she could only part her legs further.

 

Jaime pulled away a little and looked down at her. “There may be a bit of pain – probably just discomfort. I will go slow so that it is not worse.”

 

“I can handle pain.” Brienne whispered.

 

Brienne bit her lip hard as she felt him position the head of his cock against her. And then sucked in a breath that never seemed long enough as he eased himself into her.

 

A lifetime on horseback had ensured that her hymen was already taken care of – this sensation was new and she felt fuller than she ever had. But pain? If there was, she didn’t notice.

 

Jaime was slow to move within her to give her time to adjust – or maybe to give himself time. Suddenly Brienne found herself lifting her hips to meet his and found that fast and hard was enough to make her pant.

 

Something was happening… she felt like she was building to something. Like her body was filling with water. Up, up, up. And suddenly the water overflowed.

 

Brienne made a most unladylike sound as a feeling of bliss such as she’d never known washed though her. Jaime seemed to also feel something similar because the force of his thrusts sped up and suddenly he still within her with a groan into the pillow behind her. She felt him twitching within her and ran her fingers through his hair.

 

_I am his and he is mine._

 

* * *

 

Lady Sansa was breaking her fast in the Great Hall with Jon and Daenerys at the High Table as well as many other lords on the banqueting tables when her officers came in. Jon put down his ale immediately.

 

“Your Grace, Milord, Milady. The King Slayer has escaped.”

 

Jon stood up and Daenerys looked aghast.

 

“We went to bring his meat and bread this morning and he was not in his cell.”

 

“He hasn’t escaped.” Jon looked from his officer to Sansa who had spoken yet hadn’t stopped eating her food.

 

“What do you mean?” Jon asked.

 

“He’s not in his cell. But he’s still in the castle. The south wing actually.”

 

“What’s he doing in the south wing?” Jon demanded looking completely confused.

 

“Well, I gave it to him. No-one wants to celebrate their wedding night on a pallet bed of straw.”

 

A chair scraped and Sansa saw Daenerys was standing. “Wedding night?” She demanded.

 

“Who the hell would marry him?” Jon asked.

 

“Brienne would. And she has. Although she is Lady Lannister now technically. They married in the Godswood last night with myself, Tyrion and Sandor Clegane as witnesses. You can post guards outside the door if you wish but,” she took a sip of wine from her goblet, “I have it under good authority that they have no intentions to leave.” Sansa put down her goblet. “Could you pass the bread please?”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are my Dragonglass.


End file.
